


Risen For Him

by Nevermourn



Series: White Wolf Rising [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: DLC Spoilers, F/M, Happy Ending, Mental Instability, Post Trespasser, The Fade, The Veil, abelas run omg, cole the savior, pain and grief, this goes beyond the trespasser dlc, why you so mean solas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-03 18:29:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8725552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevermourn/pseuds/Nevermourn
Summary: Even after all that he's done, he convinces himself that he's doing the right thing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this took so long. My health is not the best and I've been in and out of the hospital. Not sure how frequently this will be updated tbh. BTW, if you're new here, READ THE LAST STORY, before this one, alright? Seriously. This is the third and final part of a TRILOGY. If you just jump into this you're going to be super confused.
> 
> Anyways, I feel like I didn't torture you guys enough in the last story, so I decided to throw in a Solas POV for you to get the tears flowing again. Mmmm, tears, tastes delicious! 
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment! Your support helps tremendously!

In his arms laid an elven corpse, cooling and yet still possessing the slight warmth that indicated that, not long before, it had been a living, breathing thing. A small smile spread her still lips, eyes closed by gentle fingers that trailed across her tear stained cheek. Her last moments had been of happiness, fond memories and blissful ignorance. He had made sure of it. It took him a moment of staring into the former inquisitor’s face to realize that he was crying.

They came slowly, at first, the choking, and the spasms of absolute despair that wracked his frame. Solas grasped the body of his dead vhenan as tightly as he could, as if she would be yanked away from his grasp at any moment. Her soul was already gone, and he hadn’t even been able to give her a proper goodbye. He had lied to her, told her that it would all be okay. As the Dread Wolf clung to Lavellan’s body, he began to wonder if what he had done had been the right thing. He had to fight to remind himself that it was. The inquisitor couldn’t be allowed to live freely, she would make every effort to destroy his plans, and yet it was cruel to imprison her. She loved her freedom so much…

_Now you can truly be free…_

The thought had him sobbing again, harder than before. She was gone and he had killed her! His love! His heart! But what other choice did he have? His fist crashed angrily against the rough stone he sat upon. _It’s all my fault! If I had never been foolish enough to put up the veil…why am I like this? Why do I break everything I touch?_ Throwing back his head, the Dread Wolf howled, channeling all the anguish, desolation, and self-hatred he felt into the unnatural sound that exploded past cracked lips.

_Forgive me, vhenan! I beg you! Forgive me, please!_

But even as the desperate thought shot through his mind, he knew he didn’t deserve it.  She should hate him for eternity. She should cast him into hell for what he had done, and he would accept every second of torture gladly. He deserved it. He needed it. Solas clutched the body of his love tighter, bringing her to his chest before standing with Lavellan in his arms.  She had deserved so much better than him.

A shadow was cast over his position, and he recognized it immediately. Turning, the electric eyes of the Elvhen met with the cold depths of Cole, the spirit of compassion. He was watching the Dread Wolf with an expression akin to disappointment, and Solas bowed his head with shame.

“Please…just tell me. Is she…happy?” It was all he was brave enough to ask in that moment. His eyes lifted pleadingly to Cole’s. He’d beg for the knowledge if he had to.

“She is.” The response from the spirit had been simple, and yet so strong that it sent an enormous wave of relief shooting through Fen’Harel’s mind. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding. Tears continued to leak past his gaze, but with more confidence, Solas turned to make his way back towards his fortress, still clinging to his beloved. He planned to build a shrine for her, something he could visit each day to remind Lavellan of how much he loved her, and how sorry he was.

_Ar lath ma, vhenan._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fade reflects memories.

She was floating, a feather on the wind, drifting away but never lost. All she knew in that moment was green. It blinded her eyes, embraced her ghostly frame, and coiled around her very soul. Visions flashed through her mind, memories seeping into her new reality.

“Solas, why don’t you like the elves?” Lavellan sat next to him in the rotunda. They were eating lunch together, and everything was perfect in that moment, away from the chaos that Corypheus had been causing. Solas paused for a moment, seeming to consider her question.

“What makes you believe that I don’t?” The hairless elf finally managed to reply, tilting his head a bit as a small smirk crossed his features. “I seem to enjoy your presence well enough, do I not?” He was dancing around her question. It was obvious enough.

“Come on Solas, you’re always talking about the Dalish and how they’re ‘not your people’. What does that even mean, anyways? I mean, I know you’re not Dalish, but shouldn’t all elves be considered, well…elves?” She thought that it shouldn’t matter where one grew up or how, that all should share the name of ‘elf’ equally.  Solas, however, had often expressed his disagreement.

“The Dalish cling to things they hardly understand. And when people, such as I, attempt to guide them onto the right path? They show nothing but hatred in return. They don’t want to learn anything new. They would rather hang on to all that is wrong. It is…frustrating.” He stared at his meal for a moment before taking a bite of the ram meat. Silence stretched between them, though not for long. She was hesitant to voice her thoughts, but did so anyways.

“So…you don’t consider them elves because they…don’t agree with you?” Her voice came out as soft; quiet as to prevent any idea that she might have been insulting him. She didn’t want him to think that. That didn’t stop the intense stare from Solas that felt as if it were piercing her very mind and soul. Uncomfortable, Lavellan glanced down at her lap.

“This conversation is over.” Solas announced firmly. His tone left no room for argument, though when she didn’t respond, he added, more softly this time, “I am not angry with you, vhenan. I simply…do not feel comfortable talking about such things. My apologies.”

The scene twisted and warped until it no longer existed; in its place was one of the towers in Skyhold. Lavellan looked out over the frozen lake far below, the thousands of tents and small huts that made up of the bulk of the Inquisition’s forces spread out along the snow and ice. Each day, more buildings were constructed. She had gone down to visit them once in the hopes of raising morale, and had found a small city where there had once been only snow. There were blacksmiths, merchants, and stables, cooks, and healers, and servants. Some of the soldiers had taken to calling it Skyhold City.

A gentle hand pressed against her shoulder, and she practically leaped with surprise, her heart thrumming.

“I’m sorry.” The wispy voice of Cole drifted into the chill, dusty air behind her. She immediately forgave him, of course. She loved Cole. He was like family to her. A sibling perhaps, maybe even a son. For a moment, they stood in silence, enjoying the warmth of each other’s company. “He’s afraid.” The spirit finally managed to find his voice again. Confused, the Inquisitor turned to him, her sharp eyes reflecting the question that dominated her thoughts.

“Corypheus?” She guessed when Cole did not respond quickly enough. The spirit shook his head, his expression that of sadness.

“No. Solas.” The spirit itched at the wraps around his hands. Lavellan simply felt even more confused than she had before. Why would Solas be afraid of her?

“Afraid of what?” She inquired softly. Cole lifted his head to stare straight into her eyes, his own gaze hollow and ghastly.

“Loving you.”

Then the world melted apart once more, and the Inquisitor found herself wrapped in the sheets of her bed. She wasn’t alone. Solas was positioned above her body, a devilish smile flashing across his lips. She returned the gesture, wrapping him in her arms, drawing him closer as he trailed warm kisses down the side of her throat. His hand trailed along her spine until her back arched and she pressed herself harder against the sleek, muscular frame of her love.

It was wonderful. Lights danced before her eyes with every thrust of Solas’s hips. With every touch, every kiss, she moaned as he uttered her name with affectionate breath. The world grew more intense, her breath quickening as the desire for more made their movements more frantic. At the height of it all, he leaned closer to brush her ear with his lips, reminding her with honeyed words that he loved her, and that he would always love her.

He would always love her.

And then the memory was gone, and she was left alone in the darkness once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmm spicy.


	3. Chapter 3

She remembered him…but the name slipped her mind. Did she have a mind? Was she within a mind? She felt like nothing at all, just a ghostly green wisp of air, slipping in and out of memories she could never grasp. Her gaze scanned the frame of the man with the blonde hair and the intense blue eyes. Her pupils roamed across the wide hat he wore, trying to place it.

_Cole._

Was he real, or a figment of her imagination? Was she real? Was anything real? Did she have a purpose? Cole was nodding at her as the thought crossed through her head, if she even possessed one.

Darkness caused her to fade into blissful oblivion. The green was gone, the thoughts were gone, Cole was gone. This was how she liked it, warm and guarded. She was aware of his presence while she slumbered, popping in and out of her consciousness. Cole was watching over her, and somehow, she knew he could be trusted.

The next time she opened her eyes, it was not the green that she saw, but sparkling white. Snow fell from a twilight sky to the cold ground beneath her feet. Despite the apparent frigid wind that was blowing, she couldn’t feel it.

“It occurs to me that I don’t know much about you.” The accented voice of a woman rang out. The ghost turned to see a vision of an elf standing before a taller woman with black hair and dark eyes and a scar that ran along her jaw.

The elf remained silent for a moment before replying, a small smile crossing her lips. “Alright Cassandra, what is it that you want to know?”

Cassandra…she knew that name. She recognized it. Cassandra was a Seeker. What else was she? The elf began to spin a wonderful tale of her home, a Dalish tribe in the Free Marches. She had been sent away because there were too many mages in the clan. The ghostly form recognized the sadness in the elf’s tone. She explained that her name was also that of her clan, Lavellan. The ghostly form shuddered at the realization that she knew that name. It felt so…personal. It felt real. In that moment she knew who she was.

_I am Lavellan, a Dalish elf. I come from the Free Marches._

The thought made her feel less like a ghost and more like a solid figure. Suddenly, she could feel the cold of the wind biting her flesh. Shivering against the sensation, she cried out in discomfort, and the vision faded back to warm and welcomed darkness, until an explosion of emerald light shattered her momentary peace.

In the sky that began to shape around her, Lavellan discovered a swirling void that colored the burned and scarred landscape with ghastly viridian light. Fires flickered hungrily around her, and as she glanced around, horror shot through her mind. Blistering and smoldering corpses lay against blackened stone, skeletal and lifeless; until they began to move. They rose together, some still ignited with a heartless blaze, groaning with agony as they began to make their way closer upon ruined limbs.

Lavellan screamed. She felt their pain, their terror; she saw the conclave explode around her, and the hideous monstrosity in the middle of it all. _Corypheus_. Then it all stopped, time itself coming to a halt. Everything around her stood frozen and lost. At the center of the chaos was an orb, delicately carved and perfectly round, polished and shining with an emerald glow. A primal urge drove her to reach out for it. Something told her that it was important, that it was something she had to have, but when her fingers brushed across its smooth surface, the orb shattered and the world dissolved into shadow.

Six glowing red eyes glared at her from the darkness. She could just barely make out the frame of a massive black wolf, teeth bared and snarling, before the scene shifted again.

“Inquisitor? Has it affected you? Changed you in any way? Your mind, your morals, your... spirit?” A tall elven man stood upon the balcony with Lavellan, staring at her with affection in his eyes. Yes, she knew this man, didn’t she? The very sight of him brought forth the warmth of love. The more solid form of Lavellan, of whom the elf had been speaking to, lifted her arm to gaze at a glowing scar carved into the palm of her hand. It was important, the ghostly form knew, but why? “If the Dalish could raise someone with a spirit like yours... have I misjudged them?”

“I am who I am, Solas.” _Solas._ “The Dalish didn’t make me who I am.” The vision wavered, and morphed into that of an ancient hall, a temple of some sort. A glowing and elegant mirror towered over a glittering pool. The ghostly form watched as Lavellan leaned in to drink from the water.

“I begged you not to drink from the well!” There was both anger and sorrow in the voice of Solas as he materialized nearby. “You are Mythal’s creature now.” The scene had morphed into a library. She recognized it, didn’t she? The ghostly form shuddered again as the knowledge returned to her broken mind. “What will you do with the power of the Well once Corypheus is dead?” Solas’s voice rang out once more.

The solid version of Lavellan seemed to pause and think for a moment. “I’ll use whatever power I have to undo the chaos that Corypheus has caused.” She stated confidently.

“You would put things back…the way they were before?” Solas seemed surprised. The words stuck out to the spirit watching from nearby.

_The way things were before…_

Something about those words…something…

The well, the orb, the power, the past. They were all connected somehow. And then, like something had struck her in the gut, she remembered. The kisses, the gentle hugs, the betrayal. The Dread Wolf. The veil.

She was Inquisitor Lavellan. Corypheus had destroyed the conclave. She had raised an army, she had loved a man. She had loved the Dread Wolf. Corypheus had not been the end, because the man she had loved had made it the beginning. Purpose flooded through her ghostly body as she realized what she had to do.

_Solas is going to destroy the world, and I have to stop him!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is on hiatus for the moment.


End file.
